Dark Souls: Undead's Path
by TinTenTin
Summary: Essentially a loose adaptation of the game Dark Souls, and events occurring before the game, into text. Experimenting with the original Dark Souls in a literary format. "OC" Undead, several NPCs to be modified for characterization, lore/game plot/mechanics substantially changed for better readability.
1. I-IV

**I.**

The man stared at the decaying corpse of the rat before him, his mind not fully his own. He had awakened a few moments earlier, thoughts muddled and slow moving, to see the rotting flesh being defiled by a variety of carrion beetle. A sense of fiery light and a hint of burning remained in the outskirts of his ruined memory, but it refused to be summoned. The man watched the bloody feast for a long time.

Hours passed, and the night outside began to fade into a dim morning. As dim strands of light began to filter in, the man continued his fixation upon the corpse, unable to break his focus. His weak will was incapable of anything else. Unable to regain composure, the man would eventually waste away until nothing remained. He would be brought down by his own deteriorating mind. Were only he to be so lucky. Unfortunately, his limited focus was suddenly stolen by the scraping and screeching of hinges above him. As bright light shown down upon the man, he glanced up, and briefly noticed the sun-bathed helm of a knight before his simple attention was again grabbed away. Light shown down upon the prisoner, and a leathery skeletal corpse fell before the man. Overwhelmed with a sudden sense of urgency, the man's simple thoughts forced him to move from his long-seated position and explore this new intrusion.

Knees creaking, and with a groan of pain, the man forced himself up and approached the body. In his state of mental incapability, his focus could only be brought solely to the shiny key upon the corpse. Clumsily thrusting his hand against the key, the man attempted to bring his stiff fingers around it, but found himself unable to do so. It took many tries before he found his digits able to finally obey his command, and with a grimace he clawed the key from the leathery filth before him, bringing shreds of dried flesh and ruined cloth with it. As he took the key, something began to rise within him. His murky mind began to clear, hints of fire with pain vanished, and for the first time since his awakening, the man could finally take in his surroundings.

He found himself enclosed in a small cell, shut in on all sides by green, mossy rock. Mold grew all around the foundations of his prison, and beetles scoured the rough floor as though his movement had disturbed their feast. A rusted, iron-bar door stood to the left of him, leading into what seemed to be a series of cells deep within a prison complex. Above him, a jagged portal opened to the outside, frosty air blowing in. He could remember nothing of the cell before grasping the key, but he had a chilling sense of attachment to the opening above and chose to brush it aside before he lost his nerve. He took note of himself to free his mind of the fear he felt mounting within him.

He realized his pained body was masked by a solid framework of dull metal. From chest to toe he was clasped in thick armor, padded with cloth for comfort. Chained gloves imprisoned his hands, and a heavy helm rested upon his brow. As his awareness grew, the armor felt heavy upon him; almost as if it were suffocating him. He knew not its origins, but in a mind still wakening, he feared consequence were he to remove it. Still weak of thought, the man was unsure how to proceed. Tired, he contemplated taking a brief rest. His mind began to slow again, and his focus was drawn to the corpse of a rat; something that had escaped his previous intake of the cell around him. He began to watch the resumed feast of the beetles, his will waning…

* * *

Not far from the deteriorating prisoner, a terrified scream burst forth into the new daylight. A massive, beastly creature slammed into a helmed knight, roaring victoriously. The victim crashed through the roof of the prison, falling hard upon his knees in the cell below. Choking with pain as bone burst through flesh and a flood of crimson exploded out from him, the helmed man gave into darkness and collapsed. The beast bellowed above the cell as it triumphantly returned to its conquest of the complex.

 **II.**

The feast was disrupted as the entire cell shook around the man. Suddenly awakened from his daze and in a panic, the man cowered against the wall as an ear-shattering roar was heard throughout the prison. Quickly following the monstrous distraction came the piercing sound of a terrified shriek, and then silence. The man found himself too afraid to remain complacent any longer. He rammed his body into the cell door, fists slamming against it as he yelled in frustration and fear. He begged his jailors to help him. He heard only the echoing of his own shrill cries, and began to sob. The sound of clinking metal below him reached his ears – the key! He snagged the fallen key from the floor and shoved it into the rusted lock of the door, praying it would open. With a painful moan, the lock gave way and the rusted hinges gave way just enough to allow the man to force his body out of the mossy cell. Flying into the hall before him, he fell hard against the body of another.

The man cried out, jumping back from the body in front of him. The body turned towards him, horrifyingly thin; grey, leather-like skin drawn tight across bone; all the signs of a man long after his expiration. With black, hollowed eyes the inhuman thing sighed towards the freed prisoner, but made no other move of its own.

The man shrank against the wall opposite of the creature, slinking past the horrible monster. Relief washed over him as the thing he feared stupidly observed him, making no movement. Eventually the creature returned to leaning against the wall, doing nothing. He felt emboldened by the timidity of the beast. If this pathetic being were the source of the roar he had heard earlier, there was no reason to hold on to the fear he had been feeling ever since the initial shaking of his cell brought him awake. The man turned his back on the docile beast and continued forward, wondering about the prison he found himself in.

* * *

Far above the prison complex, unbeknownst to all inhabitants, a great shadow circled the area. Drawn by unseen roars, the crow, several times as large as any man, curiously watched from above. Perhaps it would soon be able to make a meal out of something below. Seeing movement on the roof of the complex, the crow shot downwards, hungry talons poised to make a strike…

* * *

The man couldn't move, paralyzed by disgust and fear. Before him stood the wrecked body of a dried-out corpse enveloped by armor too large for its thin, rotting frame. As the man stared at the moving corpse, the moving corpse stared back at him. Flickering in the torchlight, the man slammed his fists into the reflection before him.

 _What have I become? This can't be me! I am not one of these accursed creatures!_

The man began to whimper in horror, but no tears came. His dry as death skin reacted not to his despair. The man slammed his fist again into the disgusting display before him, splashing murky waste water all around. His actions gathered the attention of another of the stupid creatures, one resting in the dirty reservoir, and it too sighed at the man, almost as if in acknowledgement.

 _I am not one of you pathetic, mindless beasts, and I will make sure you understand that_.

With a frustrated howl, the man jumped towards the docile monster with every intention to end its life with his hands alone. Instead, he fell hard into the stinking water around him; brought down by his burdensome armor. Polluted water poured from his personal prison as he stood, gagging at the stench and freezing cold. Were he more man than corpse, his weak composure would have left him spewing. Even more enraged than before, he stepped towards the creature and slammed his armored fist into the wretched thing. Its skull crumbled around his fist as years of decay came to an end, and corpse-dust flew in all directions. Disgusted and losing his ferocity, the man stumbled his way towards a nearby ladder, desperately hoping for an escape from the filth and chill around him. Shivering his way up, he began to see a shimmer of light, and the smell of ash assaulted him.

 **III.**

As the man reached the peak of his climb, he breathlessly fell forward onto the solid ground. Glad to have reached the outside, but worn out, the man stared hard at a new sight: what seemed to be the still smoldering remains of a small fire built around a sword. Eagerly seeking warmth in this cold place, he rushed forward to try to stir the embers of the flame to life. As the man placed his hand near the embers, the embers burst into a blaze of fire without warning. Taken aback, the man fell hard on his armored rump and scrambled back from the hot flames. Beginning to calm from his panic, the man gratefully scooted back up towards the fire and happily felt its warmth. He began to doze off under the comfort of the daylight and warmth of the flame.

* * *

The crow continued its motion. Seeing the figure perched upon a ledge, the great bird smashed hard into it. Without even a second glance at its prey, the crow slashed its sharp talons across the flesh of its opponent before taking to the skies again. An angry roar sounded as the crow's intended victim stumbled towards its enemy.

* * *

The man awoke to a terrifying sound, something akin to a crow but much larger. Immediately following came the roar that had shaken his cell before. The man panicked and knew he could no longer stay there. Leaping up, he began rushing towards a giant set of doors that seemed to offer security. The man shoved against the entrance, forcing it to open. Racing into the room, he discovered only an annex open to the sky. Nothing but a few dozen pots and the remnants of some pillars remained. As the man stepped further into the room, the doors behind him suddenly slammed shut. Fear overwhelmed him and he began to look for another exit, expecting an ambush. He searched the sides of the room, terror filling him as he heard more of the bird-like cries above him. Unable to contain himself any longer, the man began to lose control of his senses. Blindly running around the area, he lucked upon an open gateway and threw himself inside.

* * *

Releasing a maddening screech, the bird went for a second attack against its prey. Letting out a gloating cry as its talons pierced into flesh, the bird prepared to feast, but it had gloated for naught. The crow's target was not quite the prey it imagined and not a moment after his talons found their mark a second time the crow realized it was piercing into something very powerful. With a furious roar, the beast slammed a fist into the crow. Smashed against the stone flooring, the crow squawked in pain and surprise; attempting to escape back into the sky. Wings extended and black feathers flying everywhere, the crow shot off – only to be hit hard by a weapon wielded by the large attacker. Bewildered and hurting, the crow flew without thought into the beast, causing it to stumble from its perch and fall far into the large annex below.

* * *

Hurrying into the enclosed room, the man heard the gate behind him slam shut. At once, an enormous impact shook the room. Debris rained from the ceiling as a massive and pained roar came from beyond the sealed gate. Pure fear took over as the man ran into an adjoining hallway, seeking to escape whatever lay behind him.

 **IV.**

Running into the hallway, the man heard the sound of metal against brick. Clink. Again he heard the sound, right behind him. Then came an unbearable pain in his shoulder. The man cried out in shock and fell to the left, landing in a small cell similar to his own. Rolling on the floor in anguish, eyes clenched shut as the pain wiped out the fear of the roaring behind him, the man slid his hand up his shoulder. Panic took him when he pressed up against what felt like a piece of wood embedded in his arm. Forcing his eyes open, the man came to realize something was protruding from his arm. The small shaft of an arrow jutted out from a cloth fold in his armor, staining the aged linen a deep red.

The injured man reacted out of fear, doing anything to remove that pain. Grasping the wood, he pulled hard on the missile lodged in his arm. The head of the arrow tore free, wrenching his flesh and shredding cloth as it came out. A small stream of blood flowed forth from the wound, and the pain only increased. The man dry-heaved at the sight of his blood, corpse-like body unable to fully wretch. His vision grew blurry as the sound of a failed arrow came again from the hall, and the man almost lost consciousness.  
As his injury induced panic began to subside, the man began to look for another way to go. Fearing the hallway, he felt all around his cell. No other exit awaited him. He could only move on ahead to the unseen archer ahead, or go back and face whatever had sourced the outrageous roaring in the annex…

* * *

The corpse of the fallen knight lay amongst the wreckage from the collapsed roof. The attack of the beast had broken in a large section of the top of the cell, leaving brick and other rubble dispersed throughout the room. A large pool of blood spread around the dead man, his armor heavily dented and his limbs a mangled mess. Held weakly in his cold fingers lay a corked stone vial, and a small key lay not far from the body…

* * *

In the distance, an angry roar sounded and the complex shook. The crow felt it from a distance, burrowed in its nest. Heavily injured and unable to leave the locale, the crow had settled down in its new makeshift home to recover. The bird slept, already forgotten by its attempted prey raging in the massive building nearby…


	2. V-VIII

V.

It was trapped. It was trapped and unable to get out. Filled with rage, it smashed against wall and door. Old, but built to withstand the most vile of prisoners, the walls stood soundly, denying the exit of their newest inhabitant. Frustration over took rage as it continued to pound pointlessly against its new cell. Eventually, acceptance came. Exhaustion took over as it rested for the first time since the assault on the prison began...

* * *

The man knew he had to make a choice soon, remaining undecided would only bring either fate to him. Summoning up the last of his courage, injured arm throbbing, he advanced into the hallway. Nothing happened. No clings or clangs from any arrow came, and the man saw nothing before him. Moving slowly forward, he saw ahead of him a bit of light, just enough to indicate an exit to the outside was ahead. Excited for the potential of freedom, the man dashed forward – only to stumble, failed by his overwhelming armor, and fall face-first and hard into a broken open cell next to him. Without wind and shoulder aching, the man rolled onto his back, trying to catch his breath. That was when the smell of the blood, a drying pool of it, assaulted his weakened senses.

The man dry-heaved as he saw the wrecked corpse of some unknown knight, somewhat fresh blood covering the floor from what seemed to be a hard crash onto the stone floor from above. The ceiling of the cell had collapsed in on itself, from what the man knew not, and had apparently been the source of the knight's death. Sickened, the man cowered into a corner of the cell, trying to overcome his horror and disgust at the sight of the gruesome kill. Gathering himself, he fled from the room, stumbling out into the hall towards the dimming light coming through an exit ahead. Freedom so close, the man turned hard and slammed into the monstrosity awaiting him.

Screaming in terror, the man lashed out. Punching and clawing with his rusty gauntlets as hard as he could, he let panic overtake him. Blindly assaulting the foe before him with all his might, he tore and pulverized the decaying creature into the ground, its bow and arrow worthless. In a rush, he slammed into the iron-bar door before him, desperately trying to force it open to no avail – it was locked and wouldn't budge. With a despairing grimace, he slammed his fists and fought to regain control of himself. The day outside was growing dark, and a declining sun cast the last bits of light into the hallway. So close to the outside, yet denied! The man leaned against the gate forlornly, staring enviously ahead at the walkway outside as the rustling sound of moving metal reached his ears. Something was behind him.

The man turned around, icy fear flooding his body again. He slunk against the iron of the door and looked across the way, trying to find his new opponent. Instead, coming face to face with the now animated blood-stained and dented armored corpse he had just encountered. The corpse was sitting up, and its helm seemed to stare at the man. Backed up against the locked door and unable to escape, the man cowered.

* * *

VI.

The crow awakened from a nightmare, and sought sleep again. As the crow rested, it thought. It remembered this prison and its many changes over the years. The prison... Years before the crow had watched many of the two-legs bring others of their kind here. They had locked them away, fearing them. The crow did not understand why, after an unhappy occurrence it had since made its home far away from the conflicts of the two-legs, but that was not important. The importance lay in remembering two-legs dwelt within. The crow knew it had released something into the prison, and tinges of guilt began to take hold in the ancient mind of the bird. It had long ago been the ward of a young two-leg, a starving fledgling saved only by kindness, and while the boy was gone his deeds were not forgotten. The crow had no desire to bring death upon those of the prison, even if he had shunned the two-legs for decades. Silence grabbed the crow's attention. It looked towards the prison; its foe had quieted. Sleep overtook the bird again, and it dreamt.

The bird dreamed of a time long ago, nearly a century before, when he had lived frequently among the two-legs. Images of the boy who saved him, now a young-man, were brought to the forefront…

The man patted the large bird before him, which preened its handsome feathers, "We'll be like the legendary Wolf Knight Artorias and his great companion… or no! We'll be even better than that. One day we will be the ones people tell stories about. Everyone will know of Knight-Prince Vamos and the fearsome Snuggly." The crow squawked proudly in response.

"The only thing everyone will know about is what a slackard he was, eternally shamed for ignoring his duties," A young woman said mockingly, in a voice as pleasant as the crow's squawking, "Father let you, of all people a prince, take up blacksmithing because you begged and pleaded. Now what have you done with it? You managed to make some swords that abuse our precious fire, and then you were done! Forever "perfecting" that nonsense! You're as bad as a sick-one, an almost hollow, focusing on one thing."

"You don't understand the first thing about my fire-smithing," He sighed, and then childishly stuck out his tongue, "Go back to your pyromancies and being a bother to the priests. I'm sure they want to hear about how you can set twigs alight."

The crow jabbered repeatedly, as if in laughter. And then suddenly the man was gone; rain poured down the jagged rock surrounding them on all sides. Then the crow saw him, falling hard into the ravine below, kicked by the laughing-one, and with broken wings the crow could only watch as the prince broke upon the rock below and lay motionless. Gleeful, maniacal chuckles pierced the crow's ears and it cried out–

The crow awoke with a jolt, wings flapping in shock and horror as he was thrown back into the waking world from the nightmare. Pained with anxiety, it gave up on sleep and again contemplated the prison before it.

* * *

VII.

"Just as I thought… you're no hollow… but it seems you may as well be," The helm coughed and ragged breathing burst forth, "I don't know why I bothered to let you go when I've let so many others rot away in this gods-forsaken place."

The man did not understand what he was seeing. The corpse was alive, and it was speaking to him. The beasts before him had never been able to speak, only sadly acknowledging him as kin or striking out at him. A spark of happiness mixed with his fear, creating a bittersweet cautiousness as the man arose from his cowardice and slowly moved towards the corpse. Through the busted roof the fading sunlight caused a small beam upon the armor of the corpse, and the metal reflected it brightly. The man suddenly stopped, losing interest in all but the glistening blood-splattered armor.

"You truly are damaged, just about hollowed," The helmed "corpse" leaned forward, shifting his pained body out of the light before him, "Stop gawking, and get over here. Can you not speak?"

The man, the almost-hollow, walked into the cell of the knight. He groaned painfully and a variety of forced growls came from his throat. No matter how hard he tried, his leathered visage and dusted throat could not bring forth anything intelligible. The monstrous babbling continued until the knight's voice rose again.

"Stop! It's pointless. You are not as far gone as I thought, but you've been like this for so long…" The knight pondered, and then grimaced as a sharp pain tore through him, "I'm done for, I believe. My wounds are too harsh, and no curse can overcome them. I will die again and again, becoming… more like you." The knight shivered and crossed his damaged arms, wincing as the damaged limbs came together, "I was knocked below by… something. The prison came under attack, and I, the sole-remaining caretaker, rose to its defense. I really managed well, didn't I?" The helm rocked slightly as bitter laughter shook it.

As the man approached the knight, the knight held up an armored hand to stop him,

"Don't come near, I don't know when I'll lose myself completely. I have no desire to harm the last sane being in this accursed place." The man coughed again, splatters of red flying forth from the slats of his helm, "If you want to make it out of here… you're going to need to be armed. You look well-protected, as if you would know to use a sword. Near me should be my sword and shield, take them… they're now worthless to me."

His breath becoming heavy, the knight began to choke as blood filled his lungs, "Take this key… it can open almost anything here and… there is a large annex just below… through its door you can escape to the outside," The knight slumped forward, breathing becoming erratic as he slowly began to suffocate, "And take this… flask… flame-blessed… heal you…" And then the first of several oncoming deaths that would lead him to the empty, violent existence of a hollow hit the helmed-knight, and he fell back upon the stone behind him.

VIII.

Night had fallen, and the man, burdened from the loss of his newly-met acquaintance, the only truly living thing he had encountered, slowly unlocked the iron-bar door before him. Stained with rust, the lock struggled to give in to the commands of the key, until finally it broke open and the door gave way. No moon shone to give the man any indication of his surroundings, and he stumbled blindly forward. The taste of fresh air was intoxicating, and he choked as his decayed lungs attempted to breathe it all in.

The man walked forward, finding himself upon the ramparts of a heavily damaged wall. His eyes becoming accustomed to the darkness of the cloudy evening, he took in the ruins of the prison as cold air settled upon him. Broken, decaying fragments of wood and rusted metal lay scattered all around. As he moved farther along the wall he turned into an open area. To his left opened up to what seemed to be a ledge, cracked stone looking as if it had carried some too-heavy weight. To his right, far below the wall, he saw only a great expanse of open, barren land. Night cloaked the rest of the world beyond that, and he was unable to make anything out. Physically exhausted, shoulder and arm aching from wound, and mind tinged with sadness, the man lowered to his knees and unknowingly rested upon discarded feathers…

* * *

The crow watched the prison, resting its body. It saw movement above, its strong eyes seeing a two-legs above. The crow was relieved, glad to know the beast it had unleashed had not harmed it. It did not know where the other two-legs were, and it did not care. Warning one would be enough, and the crow painfully brought itself into the sky.


	3. IX-X

**IX.**

The crow landed upon the ramparts, eyeing the two-legs, afraid to approach. The two-legs was different from others the crow had known. The creature looked sick and dying, or perhaps even dead. The light scent of decay assaulted the crow, and it hesitated to make a move towards the unknown beast. The crow sensed it had made a mistake, that this was not a two-legs at all. Unsure talon raised, the large bird prodded against the chest of the armored dead-thing before it, only to shriek and shuffle back as the dead-thing gasped out its own shriek and jumped to its feet.

The dead-thing raised a metal stick towards the crow, uttering nonsensical growls that the crow could not make sense of. The crow knew two-legs speech, and this truly was no two-legs. The disappointed crow disregarded the little metal stick and rammed its head against the threatening dead-thing, catching it by surprise. The dead-thing fell backwards, garbling out a terrified yowl and stumbling over the edge of a decaying archway, only to meet nothing but air below. The crow cawed triumphantly as the dead-thing fell far below.

* * *

The man screamed as he fell, dropping his sword as arm and legs flailed in a desperate reach for any stopping measure, all to no avail. In those few seconds he knew he was finished. He had slain horrors and escaped a monstrosity only to meet his death in a cowardly retreat from a giant bird.

* * *

It hadn't slept in so long, and in its new-found sleep it dreamt. It remembered coming to this world, so long ago, in a burst of fire and flame. It remembered the razing of a city as its brethren lay waste to the world of its summoner, relishing the bloodshed as it destroyed the pathetic fire witch and her priests. It remembered the sound of crushing bones and screams, and it slept happily until a discomfort entered its fiery dream-world.

It felt a slight pain in its skull, briefly. It did not want to leave its dream-world and it ignored the pain until the pain erupted into an explosion of blinding-light and agony. It forced open its eyes as something sharp pierced its way into its skull, shoved forward by the rear-end of the screaming man as he landed with the weight of a boulder on an unexpected obstacle during his descent to death on the stone floor. It roared in agony as the blade fully entered its head and dark blood gushed from its deep wound.

It was in a panic. It battered and clawed at its face, throwing the man to the ground in its desperate attempt to remove the painful intrusion. The forceful struggle as it rained blows upon its head only embedded the blade deeper into its skull, causing more and more damage. It grew dizzy and tired as its vision began to darken, and the taste of its own demonic blood grew heavily in its mouth.

 **X.**

The man struggled to regain his breath, raggedly sucking in air through his dusty lungs as he lay panting upon the stone floor. He had landed heavily on his sword, avoiding an unfortunate death by impalement only by the thick armor on his rear, and found himself being thrown onto the floor only just below him. He was alive! The joy filling the man lasted only for an instant, as a horrific howling behind him caught his attention.

The man turned just as a giant monstrosity wandered towards him aimlessly, scratching at its head as blood poured from the wound. On top of the beast's spiked head, the man could see his sword embedded deep into the monster's skull. The green beast towered over the man, easily four times his height and larger than any animal he had ever seen. Its moldy and warted skin was coated in a thundering river of dark blood, falling from the demon and puddling on the stone floor. The beast growled in a mellowing, defeated agony as the man slid away from the sight in terror. Overhead, the man heard a great screeching as a shadow fell over him.

* * *

The crow had eagerly watched for the death of the threatening dead-thing, and had only been more amused by its fall onto the once-prey below. The crow assumed the dead-thing to be done, and that it could leave knowing it had given its giant foe a good rap on the head. The crow had turned away, prepared to seek refuge in its temporary nest, when the outrageous cry of the once-prey sounded. The crow glanced down and saw the once-prey heavily injured, blood pouring from its skull where the metal stick of the dead-thing protruded from its skull. Squawking with laughter, the crow saw a chance for revenge against its foe. Aching wings reinvigorated with determination and a need to recover its pride, the crow cried out as it shot towards the dying beast below.

Approaching its target, the crow aimed its talons for the metal stick, striking into the flesh of the once-foe and pressing the metal stick further into its prison. Blood flew from the mouth of the crow's foe as a final hiss came from the creature and it slumped down onto its knees before falling hard onto its chest. The crow cawed with pride as its foe died on the red-stained stones of the annex, screeching to the sky as the monstrosity lay motionless.

* * *

The man stared at the victorious crow in bewilderment. The bird had finished off the demon and now stood over the corpse, preening itself. As the man watched the bird, a bright flash blinded his eyes. He heard the crow cry out and felt a burning over his entire body as darkness overtook him...

The world spinning around him, the man opened his eyes, rolled onto his stomach, and wretched. A combination of dust, blood, and stomach juices came up as he gagged and cough. He sat up on his knees and heaved again before removing a gauntlet to wipe his mouth. To his surprise he was met not by a shriveled and leathery hand, but by one very much alive. The man let out a joyous shout, and could only grin as something other than a growl came forth from his throat. He began to laugh, overwhelmed with relief. He was human.


End file.
